Day 18

Fortified by some grown up Suffolk hospitality from Ian, CB & Bert and some equally grown up physio from Max (maxunwinsportstherapy.co.uk) today was all about grunt. I've never been one for froth, frills and fluff. When the wind is 22 knots in your face all day you need some decent coal face grunt. Ian was the windy wizard wrangler, but was almost superseded by his wife till she collided with some metal on the Orwell bridge: 15 stitches, yet three hours later after a Tractor Boys A&E appointment, she was back on the trail.
Big thanks to the lady who gave us ice creams outside Ipswich, the other lass who gave us some freshly picked tomatoes and the Ocado van who put his fingers into his own till and gave us some drinks (colder next time mate please). Then Ali, turning up again ('I parked six miles away and ran here....' Please!) just as CB damaged her modelling career. Oh yes the Orwell Bridge, the fabled gateway to East Anglia: this suit has done 50 marathons, climbed Kilimanjaro and completed the Everest 26 miler, but that mile and a half into a headwind adjacent to four lanes of speeding lorries, was as tough as anything I can remember.

Bit of wind, bit of Claret, bit of effort ...hmm Orwell that ends well.

450 miles completed, 550 remaining. How far did you walk today?